Love Inspired Suspense March 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: Protection DetailHidden AgendaBroken Silence Page 17

  She rubbed at a smudge of dirt on her thigh, refused to let herself think about goodbyes. She’d rather think about hellos and how wonderful it would be for Lana to meet her nephew.

  “You doing okay?” Gavin asked, his fingers brushing her arm.

  “Sure,” she managed to say past the tightness in her throat.

  She’d managed to pull on her dirty jeans, but her shirt hadn’t been salvageable. Gavin had wrapped his jacket around her shoulder, pulling it into place over the hospital gown. She snuggled into it, refusing to glance in his direction. She didn’t want him to see moisture in her eyes and think she was actually crying.

  They reached the end of the corridor, and Adam opened the door. Gavin thanked the nurse and pushed the wheelchair into the room. Harland was there, standing beside a young woman who had the same dark hair and eyes as Rose.

  “You must be Lana,” Cassie said, offering her hand.

  “And you’re Cassie. Thank you for taking care of my nephew while the police were looking for me.”

  “It was my pleasure. He’s a very sweet boy. I know you’re going to love him. I only wish that…”

  “My sister hadn’t had to die for me to meet Juan?” Lana asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I feel the same.” She walked to a chair, took a seat, pulled a small pad of paper and a pen from her purse. “The congressman said that you could tell me about Juan. What he likes to eat. What time he goes to bed.”

  “I’d be happy to.” She filled Lana in on every detail she could think of, watching as the other woman scribbled notes. Lana cared. It was obvious she wanted Juan to feel comfortable and happy.

  And that made Cassie happy.

  When she finished speaking, Lana stood. “Thank you. This is going to be very helpful. I’m not sure I’ll see you again. I’ll be contacting a lawyer to start the process of petitioning for custody. If I have any questions, will it be possible to reach you?”

  “Of course. I’m—”

  “Harland can contact her for you, or you can contact CPS,” Gavin cut in.

  “Great,” Lana said, hurrying to the door. “Thanks, again. I’d better go.”

  “I’ll walk you out,” Harland said. “You go get some rest, Cassie.” He threw the words over his shoulder as he walked into the corridor with Lana.

  *

  “What did you think?” Adam asked as soon as Harland and Lana left the room.

  “About?” Gavin asked as he pushed Cassie’s wheelchair out of the room. They could wait for the nurse to come back, but he didn’t want to. The sooner he got Cassie back to the safe house, the better he’d feel.

  “The sister.”

  “Seems like she’s going to take good care of her nephew. Why do you ask?”

  “She seemed a little anxious to me.”

  “I’d be anxious if I were going to take custody of a two-year-old I’ve never met,” Cassie said quietly. “Especially if that child was grieving the loss of his mother.”

  “I guess you’ve got a point,” Adam responded, punching the button of the elevator. “We going out the service door?”

  “My SUV is parked in the service lot. I figure the more careful we are, the less likely it is anyone will find the safe house.”

  “And the mitten-dropping kid? Wish whoever it was would open his mouth and admit it,” Adam said as they walked onto the elevator. “If he saw the killer, if we can get a description, that’ll make our job easier.”

  “Our job is going to be difficult any way you cut it, Adam,” Gavin responded. They had to find out who’d dropped the mitten, had to find Erin. Either of those things could break the case wide-open. Neither was going to be easy.

  Cassie didn’t say a word.

  Her eyes were glassy, her face pale. She probably needed to go back to her hospital bed. She wanted to go home, though.

  Or, at least, back to where her kids were.

  He wasn’t sure how much rest she’d get there, but she probably would be safer. Much as he’d like her to stay in the hospital, he had to admit, having her at the safe house was going to make protecting her easier.

  She remained silent as he pushed her out of the service door and into cool March air. His SUV was a few feet away, parked close to the building. Adam went first, Ace loping along beside him. If there’d been any danger, he’d have alerted.

  They were safe.

  For now.

  He pushed Cassie to the SUV, was leaning over to lift her from the chair when she opened her eyes. “I think I can manage,” she said.

  “Sure you can. But why should you?” He didn’t give her a chance to respond, just lifted her and set her into the passenger seat.

  “You want me to follow you back?” Adam asked.

  “It’s probably a good idea.”

  Gavin got in the SUV, turned on the engine, waited until Adam pulled up behind him, the drove out of the parking lot.

  Cassie had closed her eyes. She opened them as they started moving. “Do you think we’ll be followed?” she asked.

  “Not by anyone but Adam.”

  “Are you sure? Because if I’m going to be shot again, I’d like to be prepared for it.”

  “I’m not sure that’s something you can prepare for,” he said, glancing in the review mirror. No one behind him but Adam. That was exactly how he wanted things.

  “I’d at least like to try.”

  “How about you try to rest instead? We’ve got a long drive ahead of us, and you need to rest.”

  “I rested in the hospital.”

  “You should have stayed longer. You’re going home to a house filled with kids.”

  “And a hysterical assistant,” she added. “Trust me. I know. But they’re family, and I miss them.”

  “They miss you, too. Destiny asked to come to the hospital with me. She’s angry that I wouldn’t let her.”

  “Did you tell her she was in danger?”

  “I tried. She wouldn’t listen to reason.” The teen had argued for twenty minutes, and she’d still been arguing when Gavin walked out the door.

  She’d tried to run after his SUV, and Brooke had had to force her back into the house.

  Gavin felt bad about it. Worse than he’d expected to. The kid was growing on him. Which was good, because he planned to be a part of her life for as long as she was part of Cassie’s.

  “I’ll talk to her when we get home.”

  Home?

  It was a safe house, but he had to admit, it felt more like home than his apartment did. Felt more like it than anyplace he’d ever been. Even All Our Kids had never been home. Not while he’d been there. It had been a place to stay, a place where he was cared for and cared about. Home, though. That was something different. That was something that happened when a place was filled with family.

  By the time he made it back to the safe house, the sun was going down, the sky pink with fading daylight. Cassie slept soundly, her head against the window, her wounded arm held in her lap.

  She shifted as he parked the SUV, groaning as he turned off the ignition.

  “Cassie?” He touched her cheek, and she opened her eyes, looked into his face.

  “Are we home?” she asked as the safe house door flew open, and kids came streaming out.

  His heart jumped as he saw them—the abandoned, the neglected, the abused.

  The loved, because Cassie had come into their lives.

  The accepted, because she cared for them just the way they were.

  “Yes,” he said, and she glanced out the window, saw the kids, smiled the kind of smile that showed true joy and love and happiness.

  He leaned in to taste it on her lips, to feel the joy that curved her mouth.

  “Wow!” she said as he pulled away. “Wait until I tell Virginia about this.”

  “On her wedding day?”

  “No.” She laughed, opening her door and preparing to greet her family. “As soon as that sedative wears off. Because I’ve got to tell you, Gavin, a kis
s like that isn’t something a woman can keep to herself.”

  He would have responded, but the kids were there, shouting and shrieking and filling Cassie in on everything she’d missed.

  He watched as Destiny helped her out of the car, putting an arm around her waist.

  The teen met his eyes, scowled, her eyes filled with worry and with relief.

  “Well…don’t just sit there smiling like a fool,” she barked. “Come on around and help me.”

  She had a mouth on her, that kid.

  He’d have to work on that.

  First, though, he’d do what she asked.

  FIFTEEN

  She’d been kissed.

  Thoroughly.

  By a guy who’d saved her life so many times she’d lost count.

  Cassie had spent the past week smiling about it.

  Which had annoyed Destiny, but Cassie didn’t care.

  Happiness was a gift that should be shared.

  Unfortunately, she hadn’t had a lot of time to share it with Gavin. He’d been working hard, chasing down leads, trying to identify a suspect. The guy who’d tried to burn down All Our Kids had been identified, his bank account accessed. He’d deposited ten thousand dollars cash in it the day after Michael’s murder. There’d been no way to track the cash. No way of knowing who it had come from.

  Gavin wasn’t happy about that.

  Cassie knew that for sure.

  What she didn’t know was how long she and the kids were going to be trapped in the safe house. It wasn’t that it was bad; it was just that it wasn’t home. No matter how hard she tried to make it that.

  She rubbed the back of her neck, wincing as muscles in her shoulder pulled. Her arm hurt.

  Her head ached.

  She felt like she’d been run over by a truck. Twice.

  But, Cassie was alive, and she’d be forever grateful for that. Even if the kids were driving her crazy.

  “I have an idea,” she said to no one in particular.

  Only Rachel glanced her way. The rest of the kids were too busy bickering about who was on the schedule for kitchen cleanup.

  “I said,” she repeated with a lot more energy. “I have an idea.”

  That finally got a few heads to turn. “How about instead of arguing over who is supposed to do the dishes, you all pitch in and work together.”

  “That’s a sweet idea,” Destiny said, every bit of her preteen sarcasm coming out. “But, I did the dishes last night and the night before. It’s Tommy’s turn.”

  “It’s not,” Tommy shrieked. He’d been worse since Cassie was shot, spending more time in his room than out of it, hiding under the bed at night. Cassie had an appointment with his therapist, but getting to it was a problem. Aside from a trip to the doctor to have her wound checked she hadn’t been out of the safe house in a week.

  The kids were getting antsy.

  She was getting antsy.

  “Tommy,” she said, trying her best to be patient. “Get the chore chart. If your name is on it—”

  “I’m not getting any stupid chore chart!” he yelled, running from the kitchen, his footsteps pounding on the stairs. A door slammed, and she knew he’d locked himself into his room.

  “I’d better go deal with that, Virginia. Would you mind taking the other kids outside for a while? I think being cooped up is getting to all of us.”

  “I’ll do the dishes,” Rachel volunteered with a fake cheerfulness that was another punch to Cassie’s solar plexus. Ever since Cassie had been shot, Rachel had been doing everything in her power to be helpful. She’d cleaned her room, Cassie’s room, the bathrooms. She’d made an attempt at making breakfast almost every morning and lunch almost every afternoon. She’d even admitted that she’d been down in the living room the night Michael was shot, that she’d put the television on mute and watched one of her favorite cartoons on the DVD. She’d heard footsteps on the stairs, turned off the television, watched as one of the boys walked through the foyer. She insisted that she didn’t know which one it was, and Cassie believed her.

  It was a shame that she hadn’t seen more, and even more of a shame that she felt guilty about Cassie’s injury. The poor kid was going to work herself sick trying to make up for something that wasn’t her fault.

  “That’s okay, Rachel,” Virginia said. “It’s Tommy’s turn, and he’s going to have to do them. Just leave what’s in the sink in the sink and get your shoes.”

  Cassie trudged up the stairs while Virginia organized an outdoor excursion. She’d had little energy since the shooting, but she was doing everything in her power to fake it. Virginia needed her to be strong. The kids needed her to be strong. She had no other choice but to do it. No matter how worn down she was.

  She wiggled Tommy’s doorknob. Locked. Just like she’d expected. “Tommy? Open the door?”

  He didn’t respond, and she stood on her tiptoes, trying to reach the key that lay on top of the doorjamb.

  “What are you doing?” someone asked, and she screamed, nearly falling over backward as she whirled to face Gavin.

  “Where did you come from?” she gasped, her hand on her chest as if that could stop her heart’s wild thumping.

  “Outside.”

  “Smart aleck,” she replied, and he smiled, his eyes going soft and tender, his lips so kissable she had to look away.

  “I just finished meeting with the team. I’m off duty until Sunday afternoon.”

  “Really?” That explained his dark jeans and the gray T-shirt that clung to his chest like a second skin. He wore a shoulder holster, his gun strapped inside of it. No matter where he went, that was with him. So was Glory. She padded up beside Cassie, nosing the space at the bottom of the door.

  “Really,” he responded. “And now that I’ve answered your question maybe you can answer mine—what are you doing?”

  “Trying to get Tommy out of his room.”

  “Again? What is this? The fourth time in a week?”

  “Something like that.”

  “I’ll get the key.” He reached over her head, his chest pressed against her back, his arm sliding across her hair as he grabbed the key. “You’re not supposed to be reaching above your head.”

  Was she supposed to lean into him, let herself rest against his strength? Because that’s what she wanted to do.

  “The doctor said I’m healing well and can go back to my normal routine.”

  “Did you forget that I was there? Or were you just hoping that I’d forget that he also said you should take things slowly?”

  “I am taking things slowly. I’m taking them so slowly that I’m driving myself batty. If I don’t get out of this place for a while, I’ll probably go stark raving mad!” She opened the door and stepped into the boys’ room. Everything was neat and tidy, the room organized for maximum floor space. Only Tommy’s bed was a mess, the stuffed animals piled in the center of it and spilling over onto the floor. She could see the top of Tommy’s head nearly hidden by animals, could just make out a little hand clutching a bear.

  “Are you hiding, Tommy?” Gavin asked, striding to the pile of animals and lifting one. Tommy burrowed deeper under his hoard, refusing to look at Gavin or Cassie.

  “This isn’t about cleaning the dishes, is it?” Cassie sat beside the pile of animals, and Gavin dropped down beside her.

  There wasn’t really enough room for two, but she didn’t mind having him so close. His arm slid around her waist, and she didn’t move away. She liked him like this—dressed in casual clothes, his hair a little ruffled, his jaw shadowed with the beginning of a beard. She liked the way it felt to be near him.

  “It is about dishes,” Tommy insisted, poking his head out from under the animals. “I don’t want to do them.”

  “I wish that mattered, buddy,” Cassie said. “But it doesn’t. We don’t always get to pick and choose what we want to do. Most of the time, we have to do a few things that we’re not so fond of.”

  “Like school?” he muttered,
sliding out from the massive pile and kneeling beside her. He was a cute kid, a smart one. If he hadn’t been mistreated, abused, neglected, he’d probably be an A student with all kinds of opportunities available to him.

  “Exactly like school.”

  “I don’t like school or dishes, and I don’t want to do either!” Since he’d already completed his school assignments for the day, Cassie ignored the comment.

  “Do you like flag football?” Gavin asked. “Because I picked up everything we need to play a game.”

  “You did?” Tommy frowned. “When? Because I didn’t see no flag football stuff.”

  “This morning. When I went to meet with Juan’s aunt. Of course, there’s no way the game can be played if there are dishes in the sink.”

  “Why not?” Tommy asked, lifting a couple of stuffed animals and tossing them onto the pile.

  “It’s just a rule.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Tommy,” Cassie broke in. “You either want to play flag football or you don’t. If you do, the dishes have to be done.”

  He scowled, and she was sure he’d refuse. He’d been just that ornery lately. Apparently, flag football was too tempting to resist. He jumped off the bed. “Fine. I’ll wash the stupid dishes!”

  He raced down the hall, his feet pounding on the stairs.

  “So how’d I do?” Gavin asked, pulling her to her feet.

  “Bribery with flag football? It’s a win,” she replied, looking into his handsome face, his clear blue eyes. “Except that he still hasn’t admitted to anything. He refuses to say he was outside the night of Michael’s death.”

  “He’ll get there. It’s just going to take a little more time.” He tugged her closer, his hands on her waist, his fingers warm through her T-shirt.

  “Since when did you become a paragon of patience?” she teased.

  “Since I decided I might not end up a lifelong bachelor.”

  At his words, she stilled, her heart beating so hard, she thought it might burst from her chest. “I hadn’t realized you’d planned to stay single.”

  “And I hadn’t realized that there was a woman like you out in the world. If I had, I can guarantee you, it wouldn’t have taken so long for us to meet.”